The media merger is gone. The clean car upgrade is dead. A selection of other policies have been cast aside or delayed by the first majority Government in MMP history.
Cynical, clinical and effective, if the new Prime Minister’s reprioritisation has taught us anything, it’s that public sentiment isthe best measure in judging which legislation lives and dies. Forget vision or ambition, Labour just wants to win.
With that in mind, the blade of Chris Hipkins’ legislative guillotine hangs heavy above Three Waters, the last of the big reforms for which we’re awaiting a final verdict. And while the centralisation model might survive his shake-up, the Prime Minister’s colleagues and officials will be trying to restructure the proposals in a way that nullifies the criticisms of disproportionate and undemocratic Māori influence.
Prime Minister Chris Hipkins. Photo / Mark Mitchell
Co-governance as proposed under both the original and revised Three Waters reforms marked a first in New Zealand. It’s disingenuous for supporters to dismiss the structure as nothing new, because it is. It may have been inspired by the co-governance of other smaller entities, but a 50-50 model for the delivery of essential public services, on this scale, would be a turning point in legislative interpretations of Te Tiriti.
Opponents claim the Three Waters proposals defy a one-person-one-vote principle and cannot be considered democratic. It’s true that as a percentage of the population, the proposals give Māori greater representation than non-Māori in the Regional Representative Groups. The original proposal had mana whenua at the top table, but even the revised version, in which Māori and council representation is one tier back, is structured in a 50-50 split.
But another interpretation is simply that co-governance gives effect to the partnership principles of Te Tiriti, and that actually a better measure of New Zealand’s democracy is whether the Crown honours its obligations under our founding document. In the words of the late Moana Jackson, treaties aren’t meant to be settled, they’re meant to be honoured.
Moana Jackson.
The great shame for supporters of co-governance is that Labour has never mounted a forceful argument to explain why it believes co-governance is the right course. Like spinach in a toddler’s cheese toastie, the introduction of the reforms gave voters the impression Labour was trying to quietly sneak co-governance through.
For all her communicative talents, when pressed, Jacinda Ardern ducked and dived and argued that for non-Māori, co-governance was nothing to fear. While that may be true, there’s a significant difference between defending a controversial policy and actively selling it.
Really, it’s been left to a handful of Māori MPs to vainly fight off the critics. Nanaia Mahuta should never have been charged with pushing the changes through. Strategically it was a poor decision, and at a human level, it wasn’t much better. While much of the opposition to co-governance centres on reasonable arguments over representation and democracy, there is undoubtedly an ugly anti-Māori streak that has targeted the minister, personally.
Whether you agree with the interpretation or not, 50-50 co-governance for the delivery of vital public services is a subject worthy of debate. It cuts to the heart of our founding document, our identity and our democracy. What does it mean to be Treaty partners in modern Aotearoa?
The Labour Government’s handling of Three Waters has ultimately done a disservice to Māori. They never sold it. They never explained it. They never even tried to.
And if Chris Hipkins chooses to water it down once again, you can be sure co-governance won’t be back any time soon.
